Pain

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If I shot you would you know what pain is? Probably not.

I remember before I felt it, carnival rides, smiling, kissing in the sand, anonymous flowers. All the things you'd see in those cliché romance movies.

Laying awake in my bed with my phone cupped between my shoulder and cheek, talking for hours past midnight on a school day. Of course I'd regret it because of the miles of walking through the building class to class. Not even having a slight but of energy to carry me on. But you were there, and always walked the journey with me.

Even that day that the sun grew cold. I waited for you where we always met up after school ended. And sometimes, I can still feel myself waiting.

"Where r u?" I texted.

But there would never be a reply. Until a week later. . . now.

I looked over at the coffin.

"You're gone,"

(To clear up everything she's at her boyfriend's funeral giving a eulogy)

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